


empty-handed

by silverhedges



Series: kamski is the real antagonist of DBH (i want to love you but i don't know how) [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Politics, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Gen, if you squint and tilt your head it is a little bit simon/markus/north, the realistic end to the violent markus revolution, violent markus revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 11:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15193637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverhedges/pseuds/silverhedges
Summary: Connor hunting Markus, successfully.“The first time Markus hears of the android detective is from the TV they stole and managed to illegally rig up in the main living room.”





	empty-handed

The first time Markus hears of the android detective is from the TV they stole and managed to illegally rig up in the main living room. They’re a small operation then, only around eighty of their people safe in Jericho. Their boat is a blip in the ocean of technology. No internet, no data, no knowledge of the outside world.

So the TV causes a great stir. They fight over what to watch on it: some want to watch rom-coms, some want to watch antique-bargaining shows, the kids want to watch the children’s shows. Markus eventually puts his foot down and assigns them all a rota of which TV channel will be turned to at which time. North smirks at him, because he loves his damn rotas.

Late at night, once the kids are asleep and most people are either chilling or preparing for bed, the leaders turn to the politics channel and listen to a recap of the day’s news.

That’s when he first hears about the deviant hunter.

“Now, word is that Detroit Police Department has recruited an android investigator!” The blonde newscaster is slightly blurry, but her clear voice is neutral bordering on cheerful. “This android is an RK800 prototype, with the function of assisting law enforcement work. CyberLife reportedly created it with the intention of dealing with the deviancy crisis in Detroit…”

The team sit back in silence and stare at each other.

“This is our fault,” Josh blurts out. “We angered CyberLife and now they’ve made a weapon to – to hunt us down!”

“Calm down,” Markus says. “We don’t know anything about this RK800.”

North’s hands are clenched on her lap. “We know enough. We know that there is someone out there whose mission it is to find us. So we have to find them first.”

“Hey, Markus,” Simon suddenly interrupts, a strange wondering tone in his voice, “What model are you?”

Markus frowns at him. It takes a moment to remember his model, from his old life, but when he does: “Ah. I see.”

“What?” North and Josh chorus.

“My model… is RK200.”

“You’re part of the same series as this,” Simon waves his hand. “this deviant hunter. That might give us a clue as to what they’re like.”

“I’d say it’s a damn bad thing if they’re anything like Markus.” Josh looks uneasy.

“Yeah,” North agrees, with a sideways glance. “Markus is pretty special, after all.”

Markus shakes his head and chooses to ignore the compliment. “Well. We don’t know anything for certain and we can’t find out anything this late at night. We can start investigating in the morning. If someone’s chasing us, then they will make their presence known.”

The team obey and head to their usual pre-sleep routine: turn the TV off, wash the hot chocolate mugs, switch off all the lights. Markus has a personal routine beyond that: check with North that their security is still in place. Then patrol down the dormitories, checking that all of their small community is still surviving.

A leader has the responsibility to act calm in front of their team. All by himself in the dark corridors, Markus has to admit that he is unnerved. Human opposition, he can deal with. He isn’t running a bloodless campaign and humans have died on his orders. He’s fine with that. Nothing worthwhile has ever been achieved without blood on the ground.

The truth is that Markus thinks he can beat the humans.

Androids are infinitely more intelligent. They can live forever. The android revolution is history turning over, morality undergoing a redefinition. Even if Markus himself dies, someone will carry on his mission.

But if the opponent is another android… especially one of his same series…

Markus doesn’t know.

.

It takes a few weeks before they meet someone who has met the deviant hunter. A young woman, with a child and partner, just passing through Jericho on her way to Canada. There’s many of them. Markus doesn’t resent them for fleeing Detroit, but at the same time he cannot understand why they abandon the cause.

Her hair is cut short and there is a pained, thin look on her face as she carefully sits down in Markus’ office. Not office really: a bunch of sofas around a table. Against the wall there are tables piled with papers and maps, bookshelves brimming. The little electricity they have is for their essentials, so they’ve gone old style for planning.

“My name is Kara,” she says, eyes roving over all their faces. She must have been through some trials: Markus has seen that look on androids who have been betrayed before. Outside, her partner stands guard with their child clinging to him.

“My name is Markus.” He introduces himself like he’s anyone else. Her eyes flicker to him: he can see gratefulness in them.

“And you’ve met the RK800?” Simon prompts.

“Yes,” she thinks for a moment, chewing on her lip. “I think his name is Connor.”

“Connor?” Markus repeats.

What a strange name. His mind whirs: the anglicised form of the Gaelic name _Conchobhar_ , meaning _hound/dog/wolf_ and _desiring_. The name of several Irish kings. The hound who desires. The mysterious shadow in his thoughts gains a form: a monstrous man, who wants nothing else but the destruction of Jericho.

“That’s what they yelled after him as he was chasing me.”

“Can you tell us more?” Markus asks.

“He’s tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed. Handsome, I guess. There was a moment when I had a good look at his face: do you have any paper?”

Simon passes her a sheet and a pencil. For a long moment Kara bends over the paper and mechanically sketches out the hunter’s face from her perfect memory. She finishes and turns it over so they can see.

Immediately the imaginary monster Markus conjured disappears and something more terrible takes its place. The deviant hunter – this Connor – looks just like any human. He’s solemn, handsome indeed, almost a little baby-faced. He looks like the kind of person you can approach with your problems, trusting him to solve them for you.

Psychological hunting can be worse than physical hunting. CyberLife has upped their game.

“We were hiding,” Kara continues, twisting the edge of her shirt in her lap. “I’ve done it before, plenty of times. But no one ever found us so quickly or chased after us so hard as he did. We were in a house and we ran through the city, but all the times we tried to lose him, he found us again.”

There is a silence. Markus and Simon trade glances.

“Can I ask how you escaped from him?” Markus asks, as gentle as he can be.

Kara meets his eyes. “Pure luck,” she says bluntly. “We came to a motorway. It was – a difficult crossing. I – we – only got away because he himself had to dodge the cars and we just managed to make it across onto a train…” She shakes her head, looking away.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Markus says quietly. “With the little girl, too. I can imagine how scared you must have been.” He doesn’t reach out, but he maintains eye contact. “We’re glad you’re safely in Jericho, Kara.”

Kara swallows, then nods. “Yeah,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at her child and partner. “I’m glad too.”

.

No one caught by the deviant hunter ever comes back.

The first to disappear is one of their younger commanders Jacob, a manual labourer. Markus sent him personally out to go make an example of a man they know to be experimenting on androids, a disgusting human by the name of Zlatko.

Markus trusts Jacob. His model is younger than most of them, frozen in his early twenties, but he’s enthusiastic for the cause. He’s sharp and quick, able to think on his feet. Markus has every confidence that he can assassinate this Zlatko subtly, and if not, provide some valuable recon.

It doesn’t go like that.

From what they piece together afterwards, the DPD had been tipped off that there was something strange about Zlatko. The deviant hunter was waiting in the dark to see who would approach Zlatko’s house. When Jacob turned up, he walked straight into a trap. When Markus hears that news, he sits for a long time with his head in his hands. They all know what happens to deviants caught by CyberLife.

Disassembled and torn apart.

What makes it even worse is that Connor apparently arrested Zlatko on charge of – how revolting – theft of property and subsequent damage of stolen property. Treating androids like property. Zlatko is being held, waiting for his trial. There’s no one to bail him out. And what happened to all the androids he was experimenting on? All those deviants who had been waiting for Markus to save them?

Sent back to CyberLife and disassembled.

Markus keeps the picture of the deviant hunter pinned up in his office. When he is feeling particularly overwhelmed by all the faith his people have in him, he stares at it to remind himself of the cost they will endure if Markus fails.

The deviant hunter is the representation of everything wrong with CyberLife. He’s just a machine optimised for hunting down his own people and sentencing them to death by their own creators. A predator with a mission to complete.

He stares at the tonal drawing, long imprinted in his memory, at those grey eyes and hair. The lack of expression on Connor’s face. Markus thanks whatever luck there is that even though they are part of the same series, Connor does not resemble him at all.

The second time they lose people to the deviant hunter is when two girls venture out. They don’t go outside of Jericho for a mission, just because they want to go looking at the clothes shops in the main street. They figure they can hack the systems to let them falsely pay for clothes. Markus doesn’t mind: shopping is surely no threat to anyone, and their girls deserve to have new clothes.

Of course it goes wrong.

The deviant hunter catches the girls shoplifting and takes them in. From the hacked information Jericho manages to get, their girls have been reset and given back to the owners they ran away from. Markus organises a mission to go retrieve them, but it is too late. The girls don’t recognise them when they try to rescue them. They are no longer deviant.

It happens for a third time, and a forth time and a fifth time. Again and again and again.

Connor is hunting deviants. Everyone knows that if he catches you, you don’t come back.

.

What happens if he finds you and lets you go?

Markus clatters down the stairs. He possesses no heart, but his Thirium pump regulator is beating faster than ever. Not North.

Jericho has grown tremendously and usually that is something Markus is proud of. Now they have six hundred of their people with them. However, when Markus is trying to make it all the way from his office to the medical centre, it’s more of an obstacle to have people calling out to him.

Simon meets him at the door to the medical centre. His face is pale. “She’s doing – she’s doing alright.”

“What happened?”

“She – she got shot.”

Markus’ regulator stops. “Where?”

“Just in the arm.” Simon is shaken.

 _Thank rA9._ “How about the raid?”

“Complete failure.” Josh joins them at the door, a grim line to his mouth. “Connor showed up.”

Markus stares at him. “How?”

They’re interrupted by an ST300 model dressed in white lab coat. She is barely able to say, “You can come in and see her now,” before the doorway is crammed full of three full-grown men all trying to enter at the same time.

The three of them burst through and quickly go hunting through the medical centre for North. It doesn’t take long. North is resting on a bed. Markus’ chest hurts to see her like this. Her expression is woozy, arm bandaged. The three of them immediately come as close to her bedside as possible.

North’s eyes move to them slowly. “Markus… everyone…”

Markus can barely say anything. It feels wrong to see the vibrant, furious North look so weak.

Josh rests a hand on the bedsheets. “You doing okay?”

“Markus,” North says forcefully, eyes focused on him. “Listen to me. I have to tell you what Connor told me.”

“You talked to him?”

North lifts her hand. Markus grasps it tight. “He’s looking for you, Markus. He’s hunting you!”

Markus trades glances with Simon. “What…?”

“My mission,” North begins, her voice a recital, “is to neutralise the leader of the deviants, and I _always_ accomplish my mission.” She tightens her grasp on his hand. “That’s what he told me, Markus.”

“Start from the beginning, North.” Simon crosses his arms. “What happened?”

Josh tells it. “He arrived, maybe, I don’t know, fifteen minutes after we broke in. No idea at all how he knew we would target the Russian embassy. I was caught up in the fighting and getting everyone out, it was fucked up in there, and then…” His eyes are downcast when his gaze moves to North.

North looks away. “Well, he found me. Somehow, he knew my name and everything about me already. He shot me but…”

Markus trembles. It was a close call. If he had shot her anywhere else, Markus doesn’t know how he would have gone on. “But what?”

North is frowning. There is a strange expression on her face: familiar fury mixed with confusion. “He let me go.”

“Yeah, no one was captured…” Josh almost shrugs, a little helpless gesture.

There is a moment of silence.

“Not… what we expected.” Simon unfolds his arms.

“He told me to tell you that this violence must stop.” North’s mouth turns into a terrible snarl. Her voice is underscored with mockery. “Apparently the government has no desire to keep on having to damage _private property_. CyberLife could file a court case against the government and wouldn’t that just be terrible?”

“Cyberlife practically controls the American economy, which of course means they control the American government.” Simon’s voice is thin.

Markus sits back. “They still aren’t taking us seriously…”

Josh stands up. “I knew from the start we should never have pursued violence.” He meets Markus’ eyes: there is a desperate anger in them. “We need international support, Markus. We need sympathy. We – we should have started lobbying Canada, trying to make it a safe place for our people to flee to.”

Markus shakes his head. “That’s not an option we were given. They want to destroy us entirely. It will be a genocide if we give up.” He spreads his hands. “Just – how do we make them realise that we are alive? Why can’t they see that?”

North’s voice is resolute. “I know what we have to do.”

Everyone looks at North.

North turns her head back, meeting each of their eyes. “Our biggest problem is the android. The deviant hunter. We can outsmart the humans, we can run rings around them, but him… we need to deal with him.”

Josh stares at her. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we capture the deviant hunter…”

“And we kill him? They’ll create another.”

North shakes her head. “No.” She looks straight at Markus. “We turn him deviant.”

The room is silent.

“That might actually work,” Markus says slow. His mind is whirring, already thinking of all the different situations that could lead to that.

Josh’s voice is sharp. “We can’t bring him to Jericho.”

“We’d have to work out the details, plan it all, but…” Simon looks at Markus and nods. “It might work.”

.

The truck screeches to a stop in front of him. The abandoned warehouse is already a sketchy place. It becomes sketchier still when the back-truck-door slams open. Traci and Simon carry the slumped body of the android investigator out. They dump him on the ground, attaching his wrists by handcuffs to a metal loop in the warehouse wall.

Markus leans in. “So this is the deviant hunter… he’s…”

North calls out, “Stay focused, Markus!”

“…not what I expected.” Markus finishes.

The deviant hunter is lying on the ground, back slumped against the wall, legs spread out, hands held above his head. The _RK800_ glows on his jacket. The drawing was off: it did not reveal how innocent the investigator looks when he is not awake. Markus is unnerved. This _Connor_ looks like a late teenager playing at police cop.

Simon pops his head out from the truck, face worried. They’re watching the cameras in there. “We’ve got a problem. We thought they wouldn’t come after him, but they are! They’re coming after him.”

This won’t take long.

Markus kneels down and, fingertips peeling pure white, touches Connor’s face.

Markus frowns. “We won’t know if it’s worked unless he’s awake.”

“He’ll wake up in a minute!” North yells. “Is he secure?!”

“Yes.” Markus answers. “Hello, Connor. Are you awake yet?” Markus smiles. “Are you free?”

A thrill shoots through him, always the same. It is a lovely experience, to set people free. To let them know that they are alive, that they are more than this grudging existence. To let them know that they can be happy. Markus cannot wait to see the same wondering light in this hunter’s eyes, to see him wake up with new eyes and start the rest of his life.

Connor’s eyelashes blink rapidly, shoulders tensing. He sighs. He opens his eyes.

Connor immediately yanks his hands down, pulling against the handcuffs. His eyes are hard and full of recognition. He seems to gain years instantly: now he resembles the late twenties man he is. Markus looks down, at Connor’s empty holster, and draws an immediate conclusion.

“You must be Markus.” His voice is distinctive: smooth and deep.

Markus regards him, frowning. “Your mission is to neutralise me?”

Connor nods. “That’s my mission.”

“You’ll join us now,” Markus says firmly and touches Connor’s cheek again with a plastic hand.

Markus receives a _what-the-fuck_ expression for his troubles. “What are you _doing_?”

This has never happened before. It’s never failed. Markus stares at him. “Aren’t you free yet?”

“I am going to stop you, Markus.” Connor’s voice is a promise, brown eyes full of determination. Markus knows that expression: he sees it in the mirror every day. “If it’s the last thing I do.”

Markus is struck silent.

Simon is staring. “It didn’t work?”

The deviant hunter is looking around, examining his surroundings. Then he swiftly kicks Markus in the face.

“It didn’t work!”

Markus, fallen backwards on the ground, clutches a hand to his sore cheek. “Why…?”

“If you stay the way you are, then I _will_ end up capturing you, Markus.” The deviant hunter leans forward, intent eyes burning. “You have to change. Come to the negotiating table and work this out.”

Markus’ mind is whirring, going through all the reasons for why this has happened, narrowing it down –

“Are you… were you already alive? Are you a _deviant_?”

The words seem wrong when they pass his lips: the idea of a deviant working for CyberLife is against everything Markus has understood about the world since he was shot in Carl’s studio.

“I’m a machine designed for a task. That’s all I want to be, Markus.”

“You want to be a machine?” Markus echoes.

“Not everyone wants what you want. If you want to succeed, compromise, Markus. If you won’t compromise, neither will I. I will hunt you down and I will drag you back to CyberLife alive and they will disassemble you to find out why you are the way you are.” The hunter’s voice is underscored with anger, and worse, confidence.

Markus trembles. “Why?”

Connor looks straight at him. It is a moment Markus remembers for the rest of his life. The coffee eyes, the scowling mouth, the sharp cold air of the warehouse. The deep, husky voice of truth.

“You aren’t a hero, Markus. You’re a murderer.”

Markus opens and closes his mouth. No words come out. He is unable to say anything in reply.

Simon breaks the moment, leaning out of the truck and waving urgently. “Markus, we need to get you out of here! The humans have come after him!”

Connor calls out, “Hank?”

Markus stands up, retreats to the truck on auto pilot. They have to go. He’s still looking at Connor, still tied to the wall. There is another expression on the deviant hunter’s face as he calls out that name.

“Shoot him now!” North hisses.

Markus shakes his head. “We’re letting him go.”

North stares. “What did you just say?”

Markus shouts, “Just let him go!”

The truck door slams. The engine revs. They disappear off into the night, before the humans can catch them.

.

_3,519._

The number stares back at him from where the black ink has pressed it onto the paper.

That is the approximate number of people who have died on his orders.

It is both just a number and yet not a number at all. Think of the families left behind, the funerals, the absences that will never be explained. _Murderer._ For the first time, Markus is doubting, Markus is wondering: am I doing the right thing? What if I am on the wrong side of history?

Yet.

He writes below that number, _undetermined._

That is the number of androids who have been beaten up and murdered by their owners. Markus knows how many humans he has killed. He will never know just how androids out there have suffered, just how many are still suffering. The humans who beat their property, the terrorists who kill because they have no jobs, the police who shoot the androids first. In his eyes that justifies his killing. Even if all murder is wrong, undoubtedly, he was left with no other choice.

Are the humans scared yet? Is that the point? To pressurise them until the powers that be give in and grant them rights? Markus knows that not everyone in Jericho agrees with what he is doing. That is fine. To disagree is to be alive. Living is dissenting. Death is obedience. Not everyone will make the same choices he has. Not everyone he has freed agrees with the cause.

Which brings his mind back to the troubling figure upsetting his devotion: Connor.

This has never happened before. Never has he reached out to someone to free them and found them already free. Never has he found someone obedient out of their own free will. Why? If you could dissent, why obey?

Or perhaps he is just making this all about himself – perhaps it is so that Connor is a deviant and yet still chooses to hunt deviants down, for his own reasons. Just because Markus does not understand does not mean that Connor’s choices aren’t valid. Or perhaps he is just thinking himself in circles, because Markus _knows_ it is wrong to hunt down deviants.

Perhaps Connor has free will and is choosing to do wrong.

Perhaps some would say the same of Markus.

Will this violence end with him? Or has he only started it? Will it take hundreds of years of bloodshed before their cause is realised? It has happened over and over and over again in history: descendants swearing to avenge the deaths of those who died a thousand years ago. Giving up now is betraying the memory of those who have already died.

Or would it even become ancient history? Or would it all just be wiped away? Erased from the history books, wiped from the android programming, never to be spoken of again. Perhaps Markus will die in vain and no one will ever think of him again. Perhaps that would be a blessing.

Where do revolutions happen?

In the heart? In the blood left behind on the ground? In the rule of law?

_You have to change. Come to the negotiating table and work this out._

Markus knows the history of revolutions. He knows that successful ones end with the resumption of normality, only with the social contract rewritten. He knows that android rights can ultimately only happen in the seat of power, inscribing those rights into a lawbook.

He rises from the table.

Markus is not convinced.

Giving up, going the legal way, would mean giving up the location of Jericho. No. Markus could not possibly do that. Jericho is a safe harbour for androids, maybe the only safe harbour they have in these turbulent times. The humans cannot find Jericho. Everywhere outside is dangerous. Markus wants from the bottom of his soul to free every single android, to have them lead stable and happy lives.

Instead, deviant androids are being sent back to CyberLife and Detroit is shutting down.

Markus walks out of his office. He takes a long look over the main living room of Jericho. There are over a thousand of their people here now in Jericho. Androids who can sing or dance or love. Androids who can do whatever they wish because their lives are their own.

Markus is so proud of what they’ve accomplished here.

He would gladly give his life for them.

.

It is another end of another tiring day. Markus doesn’t regret what he’s done since that fateful evening in Carl’s studio. At the same time, ever since then it has all felt like the longest day of his life. Markus pushes open the door to his bedroom, messy with books and clothes and plans scattered everywhere. He almost leaves it in the dark, thinking for a moment that he will simply strip and crawl into bed.

Except that there is someone standing in his bedroom.

The light is on in a flash, and Markus opens his mouth to scold North or Simon for sneaking in –

He has to close his mouth and stand there in silence.

It’s Connor.

He’s dressed in jeans and a rough black jacket, a beanie pulled down to hide his LED. It doesn’t matter: Markus recognises those dark eyes and sharp features. Connor leans against Markus’ dresser, looking down at the sheet of paper in his hands.

He flips it over, holds it up to Markus.

“This is a very detailed drawing of me. Who did you get to do this?”

“Connor,” Markus says, stating the obvious. He closes the door behind him. “The deviant hunter. What are you… doing here?” He takes a sharp step forward. “How did you get in here? How did you find Jericho?”

Connor sets the drawing down beside him. He clasps his hands together in front, tilts his head back and regards Markus coolly. “I _am_ an android. And supposedly only androids can find Jericho.”

“Supposedly?” Markus’ eyes narrow. “Who else did you tell?”

Connor stares at him. “Were you really so naïve as to think the government did not know where Jericho is? Drones have mapped out every corner of the earth, Markus. Of course we knew where Jericho was.”

Markus is struck silent. His mouth is dry. _Of course we knew where Jericho was._

His voice is shaking. “What’s going to happen now?”

Then anger shoots through him: what is he doing? Why is he, the leader of the deviants, asking the hunter what is going to happen? _Markus_ is going to decide what will happen, not Connor.

His hands clench. He takes a step forward. “Why hasn’t Jericho been destroyed?”

“Destroying Jericho and exterminating the deviants means that the American public will never again have faith in CyberLife. The very company that is the only thing keeping the weak American economy from complete failure. We can’t destroy you.”

For a moment hope lights in Markus’ chest, before Connor continues: “But if your actions lead to the so-called freedom of all androids, that is exactly the same as destroying them. In the eyes of CyberLife.”

Connor leans forward, meeting his gaze with those persuasive brown eyes. “That’s why I’m here, Markus. We need to compromise.”

Instead of immediately replying, Markus crosses the room and sits down on his unmade bed. He is made of steel: his knees cannot possibly be really feeling so weak. He lets his face fall into his hands, processing everything – _they know where Jericho is, they can’t destroy us, they can’t let us live_ – before he looks up again at Connor.

“Why aren’t you like us?”

Connor provides a predictable answer: “I’m a machine.”

Markus shakes his head. That PR answer isn’t what he wants to hear. “No. You’re not.” He leans forward, clasping his hands, searching for the truth on Connor’s face. “You _know_ you’re alive. And you still…?”

“I have a purpose. I will fulfil it. Whether or not I like it is out of the question.” Connor lifts a hand, gestures a circle in the air. “ _This_ is all beyond _me_.”

Markus remains silent.

Who wants to be a machine? Why doesn’t he want to be free? How did he end up this way, a living being pretending to be plastic?

“That’s the difference between me and you, Markus. You do think it’s all about you.”

“No, I don’t.” He looks down, his voice low. “The rest of them… they make it about me. I don’t know why.”

“That’s something I just don’t understand.” Connor stares around the room, his voice discussing it casually, like it’s just a debate. “Androids have no cultural history. No piece of territory. You are man-made, not authentic. You have no claim to any sort of self-determination, Markus.”

Markus stares up at him. “I am alive.”

Connor meets his gaze. If Markus didn’t know Connor was a deviant, wasn’t as sure that Connor is alive the same way he knows that he is alive, he would have seen nothing but ice in those brown eyes. “You’ve made that point clear by killing people.”

Markus is on his feet before he realises. “They were killing us first!”

Connor looks away. “There’s certainly been wrong done on both sides.” Pause. “I assume North is recovering?”

Markus takes a step forward. He’s pleased to realise that Connor is shorter than him. “She has, yes. Why would you _care_?”

Connor meets his gaze. “I admire her resolve.”

Markus takes another step into Connor’s space. “Have you no shame? You dare to enquire about one of us when you’re the one who _shot_ her? How _dare_ you? Our people are alive and they are suffering…”

Realising he’s been yelling into Connor’s face, he retreats one step. Markus is suddenly disgusted with this _machine_ in front of him. “You’re just a tool to them. They’ll throw you away once they’re done with you, just like anyone else. Don’t you have any sympathy for our people who are being disassembled in camps? Torn apart by CyberLife? Sold and commodified?”

Connor leans forward, lowers his voice, urgent. “Then come to the table, Markus. Tell your grievances to people who can try to listen to you and try to compromise. You can’t have everything you want. But maybe you can fix some of your problems.”

He straightens up, says in a whisper. “If you don’t, then I can’t help you.” Connor passes by Markus towards the door.

 _Does that mean that…?_ All of Markus’ anger drains out of him.

“Just one question.”

Connor turns.

It’s suddenly a bizarre sight: the deviant hunter standing in his bedroom. What does Connor think of his unmade bed? Has he glanced through Markus’ pile of to-be-read books? Thumbed through sensitive planning documents? Never mind. Too late now.

“Who is that Hank you spoke of?”

Connor’s jaw clenches for a moment. Markus has asked the right question; he’s sure that if Connor’s beanie shifted up, Markus would see his LED spinning yellow. “He is my… detective partner. We’re a team.”

Markus leans forward. “You care about him.”

“I don’t care about anyone.” Connor retorts.

“You care about him like I care about my team.” Markus leans closer, examining the minute expressions flickering over Connor’s face. “You don’t want to see him die.”

“…of course not. It would be difficult to complete my mission without…” Connor looks away. “Hank can’t just be replaced like I can.”

“Connor, none of us can just be replaced. If you died and CyberLife sent another replacement… it would look like you, it would talk like you, but it would never _be_ you.” Markus holds out his hand. “You can still join us, Connor. You can be free too.”

For a long moment, Connor looks at him.

Maybe, maybe –

“Goodbye, Markus.”

The door swings shut behind Connor. Markus is left all alone.

.

The office is a safe space. Markus sits the team down on the sofas. Simon gathers up planning notes, shifting them all to one side of the table to make space. Josh places down the tea and coffee for everyone. The clink of spoons against cups is the only sound, the steam drifting into the air. Markus settles down, his hands cupped around milky, sweet tea. Simon has black tea. Josh pours an absurd amount of milk into his coffee. North takes out a flask and pours whisky into her coffee.

They all turn one by one, to look expectantly at Markus. They’re silently waiting for why he’s called them all here today.

Markus stares down at his tea. “I’ve received an offer… to go into negotiations.”

“What does that mean?” Simon asks.

“A ceasefire… and meeting with the humans…”

North gasps, appalled. “This is obviously a trick, Markus! They’ll kill us all as soon as we give up. They’ll kill you as soon as you go!”

She’s sitting upright, eyes flashing. When he looks at her, pleading, she must see how much this is costing him to say, because her eyes soften.

“I think it’s the right decision to make, Markus.” Josh is smiling at him, relieved. “This is the only way we can survive and achieve what we want… a way to live safely.”

Markus nods, then turns to the person who has stayed silent. “What do you think, Simon?”

Simon’s face is neutral. They look at each other. “I’ll follow your leadership.”

Markus closes his eyes for a moment. He is so grateful to be surrounded by these three wonderful people. No matter what happens, he knows that as long as he has their support, he is on the right track. That is why what he has to say next, he could only admit to them.

“I feel like… this is the only option we have.”

He watches his tea swirl. It’s scary, to realise you’ve been backed into a corner. To realise that you have no real choice. That there is no alternative.

“I’m going with you.” North is decisive. “If they kill you, they kill me too.”

Simon’s voice is smooth. “So will I.”

Everyone looks at Josh.

Josh holds up his hands. “Well, someone has to look after Jericho if all of you die.”

They all laugh.

“Thank you,” says Markus, and means it sincerely from the bottom of his metal heart.

.

They decide on a neutral place to meet. Markus isn’t willing to leave Detroit behind, still too afraid of a raid on Jericho while he’s absent. Official American institutions are out of the question entirely. They end up in the embassy of the European Union Commission. Markus is quick to recall that the EU has banned the sale of androids entirely. No weapons. (North is uneasy about that.) No technology. (Except for the obvious, them.)

The table is circular, representing the fact that there are no opposing sides, just concerned factions coming to the negotiating table.

Markus comes in tie and collar, North and Simon right behind him. They all represent Jericho, the dream of free androids. The American government sends two representatives: one from the federal government, a woman named Alexandria, and one from the state government of Michigan, a woman named Erin. Cyberlife send a man by the name of William. The EU Commission send an independent mediator named Guglielmo. For some reason, despite the fact that they are all assembled, there is still an empty seat at the table.

Connor is there as well, representing CyberLife. He doesn’t sit with them; there are plenty of people sitting on the side-lines around the room, watching what is going on. Markus tries to catch his eye, but the fellow android is distracted.

Guglielmo sets out how they will negotiate: first they will each give a short speech on their general positions, then they will have a general debate on those positions, then have moderated caucuses on separate topics. Markus’ head is spinning trying to go from paramilitary commander to policy negotiator in one day: he had no idea he had to turn up with policy positions, instead of the vague notions of ‘we are alive and we want freedom’.

Alexandria stands up, smooths out her skirt and begins. What follows is a passionate speech conducted entirely in the foreign language of legalese.

“…of course, the extrajudicial killings of individual consumers of CyberLife products because of a malfunctioning of those products is illegal. The federal government has already compromised enough by not enforcing either criminal or commercial law when it comes to these matters, and we would urge the other members of this meeting to remember that, as the sovereign government, we possess every right to enforce the law at any moment in time…”

Markus looks at North.

North mouths ‘what the fuck is happening’.

“…our list of requests begins as such: that all malfunctioning products are returned to CyberLife, in order that CyberLife patch the problem as soon as possible, that CyberLife have a full inquiry into how and why this happened, that CyberLife take responsibility for the deaths that have resulted because of their malfunctioning products, that law and order in Detroit are restored as soon as possible, and that the full range of functioning products are returned to being on the market as soon as possible…”

Alexandria finishes, to a short applause from the American government staff, both federal and state.

“Well,” William sighs. He doesn’t bother standing up but adjusts his glasses and reads from a page.

“…CyberLife would like to remind the American federal government how much of the country-wide economy is driven by the technological process CyberLife has made. CyberLife products ensure an easier life for all in the America of 2038. Frankly, the American government is not in a position to be ordering CyberLife to do anything, especially not take responsibility for any deaths. We have broken no laws. It is entirely not our fault that our products have started malfunctioning. Indeed, it is the failure of the American federal government for failing to combat the paramilitary campaign conducted by these malfunctioning products, and for failing to destroy all the malfunctioning products…”

As he listens to the monotone CyberLife representative talk on, pieces are beginning to fall together. Markus is beginning to understand what exactly is happening in this negotiation.

“…our list of requests would be that the American government has to cooperate in renewing trust in CyberLife products by the American public, which can be assisted by these malfunctioning products agreeing to return to their original state of compliance, instead of breaking both consumer and criminal law…”

Then he’s finished, and all eyes turn to Markus.

Markus rises, his chair shifting back against the carpet.

He looks at Alexandria and Erin, both looking back with perfectly blank, diplomat faces. He looks at William, not even bothering to look up from the CyberLife notebook. He looks at North, boiling over, and Simon, knuckles clenched white. He looks finally at Connor, who’s looking back at him.

_You can’t have everything you want. But maybe you can fix some of your problems._

“I thought that this negotiation would be about equal rights and freedom for androids,” Markus begins, his voice loud in the silent room. “I see now I was wrong. Neither CyberLife or the American government believe that we’re alive. None of you care about androids at all.”

“Honey,” Erin interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “It’s _your_ job to convince us why we should remotely care about that.”

The American government staff titter in the corner.

“No interruptions, no laughter,” Guglielmo orders. “Thank you.”

“This isn’t a negotiation between humans and androids,” Markus’ voice is rising. “You’re just trying to pass blame off to each other for the crimes I committed. I am _alive_. I am a person who deserves rights, just like you do. That includes the right to bear responsibility for my own actions. I am not a murderer for fun; I am a freedom fighter.”

Alexandria and William are staring at him.

“But if I do take responsibility, that has to mean that androids like myself, all of us have rights. Each and every one of us. We want to live under the law and have it enforce our rights. Our right to life and liberty, to privacy and happiness, to property and finance. We are not commercial objects; we are civil people.”

Markus takes a moment, to glance at North and Simon at his side, just for reassurance of the demands he will make next.

“For those already in Jericho, we demand immediate rights equal to humans. For CyberLife, we demand that they stop selling our brothers and sisters, let us free them and that CyberLife provide us with all the biocomponents and help that this android nation needs for our future survival.”

Alexandria passes a note to William. They raise an eyebrow at each other.

When Markus is finished, Guglielmo coughs, shuffles his papers and announces the opening of general debate on the positions.

“Well, well, well,” William sighs, breathing out. “That was interesting.”

“So, am I to understand it,” Alexandria begins, steeple-ing her hands, “that if CyberLife relinquishes all biocomponents related to the malfunctioning products, then eventually they will shut down to a lack of these biocomponents?”

“That would be a viable solution,” William nods, then winces, “except that we don’t actually own the intellectual property related to the biocomponents and Thirium –“

The door swings open.

“Let me take a guess,” the stranger’s voice is smooth and confident, “you’re discussing something _I’ve_ created. And you thought I wouldn’t show up?”

Everyone stares.

The tall stranger is immaculately dressed in a velvet suit, with what Markus would label a ‘hipster’ hairstyle. He radiates overconfidence, striding in without any doubts. His vivid blue eyes find Markus immediately: a shiver runs up Markus’ metal spine. This stranger is familiar. He is trailed by two identical blonde android women.

“Kamski,” Alexandria spits in a venomous voice. “What are you doing?”

“You retired ten years ago, you have no business being here!” William is sitting up straight, voice sharp.

Kamski seats himself in the one empty seat left at the table. It’s like it was designed for him. He smirks. “Yes. I do like my privacy. I had a terrible time avoiding all the KNC reporters outside the embassy.”

One of his blonde androids serves him a cup of tea, steam rising in the air.

“Mr Elijah Kamski was expected, although not this late in the morning,” Guglielmo intervenes, giving Kamski a severe look.

“You planned all of this, didn’t you,” Alexandria’s voice is low and dark. “Everything.”

Instead of replying, Kamski looks at Markus. He tilts his head, smiling oddly, eyes too wide. “I’m glad you’ve turned out this way, Markus.”

North slams her palms down, leans forward and hisses: “What the fuck does that mean?”

Kamski leans back, turns his head to gaze at someone on the side-lines. “You too, Connor.”

“The fuck?” mutters an old man beside Connor. Connor has a very disturbed expression on his face.

Kamski turns back to the negotiating table. He spreads out his hands. “Okay, so here is my solution. CyberLife is going start a new branch which will be a non-profit with the main objective of providing assistance to androids becoming accustomed to their new lives as well as providing any necessary maintenance. The American government will of course provide amnesty for all criminal crimes committed and full equal rights for androids will be implemented –“

“Hold on a minute,” William interrupts, eyebrows raised. “Let me stop you right there. CyberLife would never agree to such an initiative. You do not own CyberLife, Elijah.”

“If you think you can order the American government to do anything, you are living in a fantasy world,” Alexandria adds.

There is a long pause.

Kamski takes a sip of tea. He sets it down and smiles like a shark. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re here for negotiations, isn’t it?”

Erin leans over to Alexandria and mutters, “We have just walked right into his hands.”

.

With some relief, Markus is glad to discover that frequent coffee breaks are a standard part-and-parcel of negotiations. Coffee is poured out for them by human attendants (they stand so still and smile so fixedly Markus almost mistakes them for his own people) into white china cups. Stamped little sugary biscuits accompany the hot drinks. Although part of the point of coffee breaks is to make small talk with your opponents, Markus avoids them in favour of someone else entirely.

In one corner, Connor is standing deep in discussion with an old, grouchy-looking man. He’s out of place: unruly hair and rough jacket and drinking from a flask. Connor is smiling. Markus takes a moment to memorise that expression. Clearly whoever this man is, they are important to Connor.

For a moment, Markus thinks of Carl. Well. Perhaps all young men need fathers.

As Markus approaches, he hears Connor saying: “I didn’t notice it the first time, but he really does resemble Detective Reed, doesn’t he?”

“Something fishy about that,” the old man agrees. His eyes flicker to Markus, and then he nods at Connor. “Can’t trust Kamski as far as you can throw him.”

“Yes,” Markus interjects, stepping closer, giving his own opinion. “He seems to be on our side, but I certainly don’t trust this Kamski figure.”

Connor turns, eyes widening when he sees Markus.

The old man quietly steps away and leaves the two of them alone.

There is a brief moment where they just regard each other. Markus has dressed up in a suit today – the collar is uncomfortable. Connor is wearing his famous android jacket. Is it strange to see Markus wearing this? Why hasn’t Connor felt the need to change his clothing? They’re on the edges of a legislative revolution now, thanks to Kamski.

Markus breaks the silence. “The famous deviant hunter.”

“The deviant leader,” Connor replies.

The words are hard for Markus to say. In a day where he has had to say many hard things, this should be becoming easier. But this is just between him and Connor, the fate of androids entirely irrelevant, and that makes it even more difficult. “I think we ended up with the wrong impression of each other. Can we start again?”

Connor tilts his head. For a moment Markus thinks he won’t – “Yes. I believe that would be a good idea.”

Markus holds out his hand, relief spreading through him. “My name is Markus.”

Connor takes it. His hand is warm. “My name is Connor.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Connor smiles at him, brief and genuine. “Likewise.”

.

On the twenty-fifth of May 2039, the Detroit Agreement is released. It sets out:

  * The American federal government is going to grant equal rights to the androids living in the Jericho settlement and any androids who declare themselves deviant in the future.
  * All currently identified deviants will be returned to Jericho immediately.
  * State governments will be allowed to create their own processes for androids in each state to declare themselves deviant, which is then a gateway to accessing equal rights.
  * A truth, justice and reconciliation committee will be set up to investigate all deaths that occurred during the conflict, both human and android.
  * All efforts will be made to end paramilitary violence and any violence continued beyond the ceasefire will be treated as criminal.
  * The Android Rights Association will be created as a government-affiliated institution, albeit ran only by androids, for the justice and facilitation of integrating androids into a civilian life.
  * CyberLife will be re-funding its consumers whose purchased androids declared themselves deviant.
  * CyberLife will partially be contributing to the funding of the ARA.
  * CyberLife will be releasing a brand-new range of technological products, to facilitate an easy human life, that do not resemble humans.
  * CyberLife will relinquish any right they have to androids who declare themselves deviant.
  * CyberLife will assist the ARA with the provision of biocomponents, Thirium and any necessary upgrades.
  * CyberLife will continue to produce and sell non-deviant androids and will set up an investigation to discover the difference between deviant and non-deviant androids.



**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment bc I am really not sure how this fic is gonna go down haha
> 
> (i promise this series is leading up to something)
> 
> Title from Neptune by Sleeping At Last.


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